See You Next Year
by titlefight
Summary: Dean really does suck at writing letters. Dean/Castiel. Destiel.


**Title is from song "See You Next Year" by Brave Bird, which I recommend very much.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.**

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See You Next Year

___Cas,_

The paper was soft with folds, and resembled more of a grey color than the original white motel stationary it began as. Sam could imagine the miles this paper has traveled, folded up tightly in the front pocket of Dean's jeans. The printing was nearly illegible, and Sam narrowed his eyes to try and translate the scrawled mess into something readable.

___Hey, man, it's been a few months now. I think 6 or 7 or something, I don't know. I don't keep track._

Sam knew that was a lie. Dean had tally marked each day since That Day on an old map of Iowa. It's been 177 days. Sam has kind of taken over since Dean stopped.

___Just, well, you haven't called or texted us at all, and____ we're worried. I don't know if you'll ever read this, as I have no fucking clue how to get it to you. But I'll figure it out, even if I have to go to Heaven and deliver it myself. I keep on bringing it up with Sam, but he isn't much help. It's like he doesn't even want to find you. I mean, I know he does. Of course he does. It's just- I don't know, never mind_.

___Wow, I'm going to regret writing all my bitchy little feelings down like this._

___I haven't written a letter in so long. You're probably not going to respond either way, so there's not really a point to asking questions. I guess I'm not really good at this whole writing-letters thing. Just not a lot has been going on. Sam and I are hunting again. Nothing big, of course, you made sure of that. I never did get to thank you for that. It's long overdue; but thank you, Castiel. Thank you for being one out of a mllion angels that wasn't a stuck-up asshat. For all it's worth, you've always been a part of our family. I wish I could say it to your face, but it never works that way does it? I'll just have to wait.  
Sam keeps on saying that what I'm doing is an 'apostrophe', which is really fucking stupid because punctuation has nothing to do with this._

Sam had to stop so he could face-palm properly before continuing.

___Him and his metaphors might have a point, though. Maybe I __****__**am**____ omitting you from the big picture. It's just, I don't know what else to do, so I do what I do best: saving people. I __****__**can**____ hunt monsters, but I can't bring back you. I know it's wrong to act like you'll come back and replace the missing letter. Because it won't ever be like that, and I guess I just realized that. Damn, that took a long time, didn't it? You're probably laughing at me._

___Oh fuck, I've never heard you laugh._

___Well, I can say sorry. I can say sorry for never making you laugh, and I can admit that you're gone and that I'll never have the chance. Which is really fucking hard to admit, and I blame you. You've died and come back so many times I can't help feeling a little hopeful. But this time, I know it's permanent. I saw your wings on the wet concrete of that parking lot, and, okay, that was the most angelic you have ever looked to me since that night in the barn. Not that you didn't have any bad-ass angel moments in between. Damn, you were a good fighter. Too fucking reckless, yeah, but a good fighter all the same. I'm proud to have fought beside you. I'm proud to have loved you. And, shit, I must be some sort of idiotic douche to just be realizing all of this now- when it's too late. I know I can't change anything, I know I can't go back and fix my mistakes, but I can make up for lost time._

___See you soon.  
-Dean_

Sam rubbed absently at his eyes before folding the paper back up exactly as it was. He hesitated, wondering how the hell a hastily scribbled '___CAS_' could still manage to make him teary-eyed, before he leaned forward and tucked it in between the grave stone and freshly mounted dirt.

"Hope you're both happy," Sam said, before turning his back on Dean, the graveyard, and all the bullshit with it.


End file.
